Six Foot Track Marathon - The Grace of the Long Distance Runner

Saturday March 13, 2010 (Race -45km)

I am still soaking in the delicious feeling of finishing the Six Foot Track Marathon . The finish is sweet, regardless of whether you finished the run in 3hrs24min (the winning male time) or 4hrs 03min (the winning female time) or 7hrs (the official cut-off time) or 7hrs 48min (the last recorded runner over the finishing mat). There is nothing like it on the running calendar in this state. My first start in the early wave and I was nervous and excited to see how the day would unfold considering my limited preparation. I was also looking forward to meeting the scary monsters on the Black Range, finding out if I had the mettle to fight them off this time and also seeing the leaders of the race in action out on the course.

The gods of the 6Foot Track must have been smiling on me. I can say the day for me worked out pretty close to perfect. After a cautious start down the rocky track I descended the dark, slippery stairs of Nellie’s Glen with myopic vision in the twilight but at my own pace without any pressure from runners behind me. From there the run on the open fire trail was pretty cruisy chatting to other runners around me, some grumbling, in jest, about all these young(er) women not really meeting the entry criteria and being allowed into the early start. The single track run to the river I had pretty much to myself, accompanied by the song of the bellbirds. An occasional testosterone laden runner spoiled the contemplation by overtaking me and I was jolted into remembering it was a race and not a leisurely training run. By the time I reached the river at 16km and on my target time of 1hr40, I had overtaken a few of the early wave ‘speedsters’ and Stage 2 of the race unfolded. This section is an approximate 10 km, made up of climbing the Mini Mini saddle and the Pluviometer and these climbs being broken up with a 2km decent to Alum Creek, between them. As planned, I walked the hills and here the sound of the bellbirds was replaced by swatting of the flies that were trying to crawl into eyes, nose an ears. I maintained form and kept moving. My bruised right toe was fine but the left foot toes had a pinched nerve which sent off a fire cracker of pain each time I stepped on a rock that pressed in the wrong place. The trial of wriggling my toes to relieve the pain and not induce cramping kept my mind occupied on the climb up the Mini Mini saddle.

The kms clicked over and pretty soon the beautiful decent to Alum Creek started. I had been pretty much on my own when I heard the pit-pat of much quicker foot fall behind me and sure enough it was the race leader at this stage, Dave Criniti, overtaking me just at the aid station at Alum Creek. What a lovely guy, with a competitor breathing down his neck he found the time to call out words of encouragement to me. I was blown away – how in the moment can you be.

From here I walked the Pluviometer climb feeling reasonable strong with only a hint of cramping. By the time I reached the top of the Pluviometer, 26km into the race, the leading female runner came through looking very comfortable and smooth. Stage 2 of the race done, only 3 minutes behind schedule.

I approached Stage 3 - the Black Range - with trepidation. What did it have install for me today? As I have learnt, no matter how well prepared one is – the wheels can come off here. On leaving the aid station I started to run and realised that I felt fine, I could actually run this. I could see another early wave starter who was a couple of hundred metres in front and while I tried, I just could not get close to her. I walked anything that looked like a rise, ran the rest getting into a bit of a rhythm. Half way along I noticed a couple of cyclist approaching and recognised friendly faces; it was Al, who ran a blinder at last years 6 FT but missed out on getting an entry this year, and his nephew Geoffrey. I got such a lift from chatting to them that I forgot the running rhythm and pretty soon I was overtaking the runner in front of me, without intending to, and I kept pulling away. Apart from the start and the near Cox’s River, this was about the only overtaking I did. I ran to the next aid station re-energised and ready to race to the finish. On the way, I was overtaken by the next 6 female finishers and a few others who were caught in their own race. By the time I reached Binda cabins, approximately 4km from the end, I had no doubt I would finish. I still have not gotten over my fear of falling after the Pluviometer Plunge last year so I tread carefully. The pounding on the quads on the descent was punishing. I was being overtaken by a few runners on these final few kilometres, some bragging about how fresh they felt. I got to the sealed section of the final descent and my 45 km of pleasure and pain was topped off by hearing the voice of the announcer - this is the moment to savour. I wanted to enjoy this moment - time slowed to feeling like I was moving in slow motion as I made my way down the switchbacks to cross the finish line in an 18 minute PB. The Hammer ran a very comfortable race finishing with a 10 minute PB.

I was elated by how well I felt, how kind the Black Range was to me this year, how wonderful a few encouraging words can be from a friendly face and the graciousness of some of the leaders of the pack.

Conditions were perfect for running, cool at the start with a sunshine in sections and, just like last year, the day ended with storm clouds descending to wash out the track and leave it ready for another race, on another day.